Ignorance is Bliss
by gummibar
Summary: You're so focused on pleasing others, so enthralled with taking care of others; that you often forget to take care of yourself. It's going to catch up to you sooner or later, Prince. Tamaki-centric oneshot.


What's a Prince, to a King?

A King, to a _God?_

A _God_…to a _non-believer_.

Your name is Tamaki Suoh, and you are the Princely type. You're the King of the Ouran Host Club. The icing on the cake, the cherry on top of the sundae. You're the most important one in the group, are you not? Without your charm, your good looks, your wit, childlike humor and blissful ignorance what would they do without you? What's a family, without their father?

Your request rate is _seventy _percent, after all. Higher than the others.

You're amazing.

You're like a _God. _

Are you not?

Of course you are; you tell yourself. You burst into those doors each morning with a bright smile on your face, one that lights up the early morning gloom of music room #3. When others are half-asleep, you're the first to rise because each and every day is sacred and brilliant. This club—it's your _life_ force. Your drive, your reason to get out of bed in the morning.

Because when you think about it, it's all you have.

Is it not?

Of course it isn't. You have your _friends_. Hikaru, Karou, the twins and their dazzling brotherly love that help drive in the lovely ladies of your club. Secretive and _slightly_ hot-headed, but loving and caring and…_obsessive_ at the same time—an interesting twist, and that's why you just _had _to have them join.

You've got Kyoya. The best and beloved, the mommy of the family that is the Ouran Host Club. Your first friend when you moved to Japan, the one who showed you around and taught you the ways of your new life and the culture, proper greetings and expanded you on the knowledge of the language itself—because boy, was your Japanese rusty when you left France. What would you do without him?

There's Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai.

Truthfully…you don't interact with them _too _heavily. But they are still your friends, you still treasure them dearly. What would you do without _them, _too?

And Haruhi. You can't forget Haruhi.

She's really something else.

Your precious little daughter, for whom you'd give your life in an instant. No time to think, no second guesses. You just would. In fact, when you come to think of it, you realize that not even _your _life would be worth hers.

All of these individuals make up what you claim as your own family. They're all you've got, along with the Host Club that is… _oh._

And then you realize that everyone you just described _makes up_ the _entirety _of the Ouran Host Club. You thought you were listing off the things you had _other _than the club, but then you quickly realize that they _are _the club. Well, that doesn't matter, does it? They would still be your greatest friends even if for some inexplicable reason the club ever did crumble apart.

Right?

…_Right. _

Your name is Tamaki Suoh, and smiles are your weakness. You _love _making others smile—you _love _making the woman of Ouran Academy grin and giggle with joy. They look so sad otherwise, and you cannot have that, can you? Such beautiful women should not be permitted to feel an emotion other than happiness, other than bliss and love and comfort. That's your job, to provide it to them.

You give it all you've got; you take their hands and spin around the room with them. You plant tender kisses on their cheeks, stroke their backs and play with their hair while cooing sweet nothings into their ears, telling them everything they deserve to hear but for some reason they are _never _told. You hate when you see the frowns of others, when you see the rosiness of one's cheeks fade away and you see water collecting in the corners of their shimmering eyes. Why would they feel that—sadness? It's not logical—not allowed.

You hate to see others alone; you hate to witness some _innocent_ human being going through_ any_ sort of pain.

Why is that, _Tamaki_?

Perhaps it's because _you _yourself, have grown to know that pain all too well. Your smile is a magnificent one; you wear it _all _of the time. But what are you hiding behind that smile, Tamaki Suoh? Are you smiling because you are _truly _happy—or are you smiling because it's your _job, _as the Prince of the Host Club? The _King_, the _leader_, the _father_?

What do you do when you're done with school for the day? When you step onto the grass of your own home and sneak through the doors after the afternoon sun has already begun to fade, because you were at the club activities for so long once again? Maybe you'll get straight to your studies—because underneath your charming, dazzling looks and personality you've also got _brains._ You're also at the _top _of your class, just as _Haruhi_ is at the top of _hers._ God, Tamaki, you're _really _incredible.

Maybe you'll play some piano. Why? Because you're good at it? Because you enjoy it? Maybe it's because the glorious sounds of the keys beneath your fingertips help block out the _gruesome_ noise that spirals throughout your head, which clashes against your eardrums and leaves you unable to think during your _own_ studies. What is it you're thinking, Tamaki? What's on your _mind_?

Are you ever going to tell anyone, or are you going to shut it away in the depths of the darkest pits that your brilliant mind holds? No, it's no bother, you convince yourself. Your goal is to make others _smile, _to _beam_ with _happiness, _not to mourn or pity your own _selfish _complaints. You'll just sit on that little bench and play the piano for hours on end if you can, until your ears ring from the echoes that fill your entire home and until your hands have cramped and grown numb. Playing the piano, it brings great memories, after all. Memories of the smile that your own mother once held as you performed her favorite piece, she'd ask you to play it over and _over _again and you never dared agree otherwise because that was what you wanted most, anyways. To see your darling mother smile.

You stop playing for a brief moment; you can't help but glance out of the enormous window by your side that casts the sunset across your polished shoes and onto the tiled flooring beneath your feet. You can't help but stare at the field across the way and picture her standing there, leaning over in the garden and picking her favorite roses so that she'd bring them inside later and set a vase of them on top of your piano.

And then you glance back over to the instrument, you stare at the top and see the dust collecting underneath golden sunlight and you don't quite remember the last time there _were_ roses.

You also can't help but feel the sudden sting in your chest and when you brush your fingers against your cheek, when you go to rub your eye because suddenly you feel something inside of it, you let out a soft gasp at the sensation of wetness upon your face.

You'll wipe it away, onto your sleeve where it will evaporate and leave not a single stain and then you'll forget about it. That's what you always do, that's what you've always done.

And then tomorrow, you'll rise and shine quite early for school and bust into those doors singing a new tune because everything is amazing. Everything is wonderful.

That's what you'll continue to tell yourself. But for _how long_, Tamaki? You _beg_ for others to _rely_ on you and to _come_ to you for guidance, but at the same time you're just a hypocrite. Because _why_, then, do you _not _do the same for _others_? Don't you think they wish the same of you, Tamaki?

You're _so focused_ on _pleasing_ others, so _enthralled _with taking _care _of others; that you often forget to take care of _yourself. _

You burn out all of your own energy.

It's going to catch up to you sooner or later, Prince.

Your name is Tamaki Suoh, and you are alone.


End file.
